


Another Man's Treasure

by Tabbyluna



Category: Skylanders (Video Games)
Genre: Backstory, Bars and Nightclubs (at the very end), Coming of Age, Fantasy Atheism, Fantasy Religion, Female Friendship (sort of), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26559721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabbyluna/pseuds/Tabbyluna
Summary: One man's trash was another man's treasure. The Pearl of Wisdom treasured those who sought out its wisdom, and Echo treasured her mind.
Kudos: 1





	Another Man's Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah...
> 
> I'm religious. I consider myself a Christian. But it's been ages since I went to Church and to be honest I think it's getting to me. Never really fit in among the members of my Church either. So... yeah.

The kingdom was always cold that time of the year. Thus, the children all had a holiday from school, so that they could stay safe and warm in the comfort of their homes. Most spent their days hidden under blankets and pillows, being as quiet and well-behaved as possible. By right, Echo should have been huddled under a blanket of woven seaweed too. Either doing her religious studies or playing by herself quietly. 

At least, it was what her parents wanted her to do. Because that was what all the good children in the village did. “I was talking to Murmur’s mother the other day, and she told me that Murmur managed to read three books in one day!” Her mother told her once over dinner.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Echo replied. Mother and father loved comparing her to Murmur. It made sense, both her and Murmur’s parents earned their living by cleaning The Oyster, the temple The Oyster was stored in, and the Pearl of Wisdom inside The Oyster. Therefore, their parents saw each other a lot. As a result, they swapped stories and updates about their daughters to each other frequently.

“How many books did you read today, Echo?” Asked her father. Besides being the head cleaner for the temple, he also possessed an encyclopedic knowledge about the kingdom’s history, their religion, and their culture. He learned it all from reading extensively. Their tiny house was filled with dozens of books on all those subjects. In the past, he used to read to her all the time, hoping that his daughter would also pick up his love of reading.

Echo didn’t reply to him. She merely stared down at her food and continued eating. For the rest of dinner, the family ate in silence. “May I be excused?” Asked Echo, once she finished up her meal. She was excused, and once she washed up her plate in the kitchen, she trotted back to her room. 

Echo closed the door behind her, and searched for where she last saw her headphones. They never leave her room, those headphones. But she always took a while to find them, because she had no designated place to keep them.

The truth was, she did not hate reading. She actually liked to read quite a bit, just as long as she had a book fun to read. If she found some books which really interested her, she could read almost as many books as Murmur could manage in a week. And Murmur devoured books as voraciously as a whale eating plankton.

There were many reasons why she did not read often. But the main problem she had was with the books at home. The thing which made her read so scarcely, was the fact that most of the books she had easy access to were terribly  _ boring _ .

She would try flipping through those large, thick books on history and culture, on religion and mythology. But after the first few chapters or so, she would grow bored and go elsewhere. They talked about topics so big and complicated and they were always full of big words and terms she could not understand. It all seemed like padding, like they could have cut to the chase ages ago, but refused to in an effort to sound intelligent. Some of those big words used could not even be found in her pocket dictionary (which was a birthday gift from her father). So even if she put in the effort, attempting to understand some of those books was a fruitless endeavour to a young girl like her. No matter how much she tried to slog her way through them, eventually her brain would grow numb and she would end up confused and stupefied. 

Murmur never bragged about reading all the time, thankfully. In fact, usually Murmur was a fairly good friend. Although she did have her little habits which drove Echo bananas. For example, Murmur would  _ always _ listen to what the adults say, no matter what. If a kid got punished in class, no matter what, she would always think that the kid deserved it. “We’re kids Echo. We don’t know better than adults at all. I mean, adults have lived more life than we did, so I think they should be right about behaviour.” One time a kid was merely talking to himself and he got his recess time taken away for that. Murmur told Echo that he probably had it coming. Though she could not look her in the eye when she did so.

Echo knew that Murmur was fairly smart. She read widely, got great grades, and sometimes she wrote short stories and poems that Echo enjoyed or found interesting. For lunch or on the playground, she was a great, imaginative friend to have. 

But something that she could not stand about her was the fact that she accepted  _ so much _ without questioning.

What was even worse was how Murmur always said she loved stories about revolutions and freedom fighters. In history, she always wrote reports on great revolutionaries who stood up to oppressive regimes. When they played pretend, she loved playing the role of the rebellious princess or the underdog insurgent. But she  _ always _ said that the teacher was right, even when things were unfair. Even when she was clearly uncomfortable doing so. Echo respected her intelligence, but was not at all fond of her cowardice.

Echo, as usual, ended up nearly overturning her entire room searching for her headphones. But at last, she found them hidden under the pillows on her bed. Maybe her mother had a point when she said her room was like a pigsty… she ought to clean it up one of these days.

But that didn’t matter at the moment. What was important was that she found her headphones. Echo may like reading (occasionally, with the right book), but she  _ loved _ music. Ever since she was a baby, whenever she heard any type of music, whether it was bell chimes on religious holidays, or a song played on a boombox by a rebellious teenager, she could not help but sing and dance alongside it. She liked being loud, singing with her heart and soul. The only problem was that to the dragons in her village, being loud was a taboo. Especially if one lived so close to the Pearl of Wisdom. 

When she was younger, her parents used to scold her a lot. They told her to be respectful, to show some self-control. They used to spend hours trying to get her to meditate, to sleep. Anything to stop her from singing and dancing all the time. But she simply could not stop.

It was freedom to her. Singing, dancing,  _ music _ was, quite frankly, her true religion. She rarely visited the Pearl of Wisdom when she was feeling upset or confused, just like what everyone else said she should. But if she just hummed a few bars to herself, sang alone in her room, danced like no one was watching, she would always feel a lot better. It was healing and it was joyous and it lifted her soul like nothing else did. Her parents and teachers wished that she was not so loud, but she simply could not help herself.

Nowadays, her parents were more lenient on her. Not because they accepted her as an odd one, but more because they gave up trying to teach her how to be normal. Though they did occasionally try again. “You’re almost a teenager Echo,” they would say, “it wouldn’t be cute if you made so much noise and danced around all the time anymore.”

Well maybe she did not want to be cute. Maybe she liked being an oddball. Maybe she wanted to be weird and obnoxious on purpose.

She plugged her headphones into her music player, and chose an album for her to listen to. Over the years, she had collected quite a range of music she liked to listen to. There were dozens of genres and artists to choose from, all different in their own ways. But all of them spoke to her in their own different ways.

Eventually, she settled on an old favourite album of hers. It had been over a month since she last listened to it, but it was still a masterpiece to her. And when the opening cords of the first song played, it was like stepping on board the last train home.

*****

In her teenage years, Echo discovered her favourite book. She discovered it during a family holiday, where her parents took her around the seas of Skylands. Her father had a theory that when children are young, they should be exposed to as much of the world as possible. Doing that would expose them to more cultures, more ideas, and it would therefore develop their brains in ways which staying in one place all their life could not. 

Mother was a little more religious than her father. In fact, she told Echo that she suspected her Father’s interest in religion was more intellectual than spiritual. So she was always a little more reluctant to tag along. “I know he says that the Pearl appreciates when we can converse with it rather than merely obeying its orders. But don’t listen to him. We rely on the Pearl of Wisdom for our knowledge, not ourselves,” she used to always tell Echo. 

But she was a lover of beautiful things, so for the sake of seeing many beautiful things, she would come along. Every trip they took, she would always return home with corals, jewels, and crafts bought all over the oceans of Skylands. Echo’s parents’ bedroom was like a cave filled to the brim with those treasures.

It was on one of those trips, when Echo was with her Mother in a local store and her Father was holed away reading in their motel room, where she found that book.

This was a very common set-up on their trips. Mother loved looking at the local shops. And to a certain extent, Echo did too. Mom always hoped that shopping with her daughter would be a bonding experience, but Echo usually brought her set of travel headphones along with her when they went on holiday. And so when they were at those local shops, Echo’s ears would be plugged in and all she could hear was music. So there weren’t many chances to have a conversation then. 

In hindsight, Echo realised that she was being a little rude. But then again, she was never the most social dragon out there. And especially during her teenage years, she and her Mother had a difficult time getting along. Most of their conversations ended with frosty silence, when they were both too exhausted to keep arguing.

So they would end up checking out the same shop, but separately. Mom on the lookout for unique, beautiful things, and Echo taking in the atmosphere while listening to her music. If they were at a store which sold many different things, like a thrift shop or a store of oddities, Echo would be more engaged. As opposed to jewellery stores, where she was more or less a wallflower. In stores of oddities, Echo often checked out the books or music section. Usually, she found something interesting which she would buy. Especially when it came to music, she got introduced to many genres and artists through perusing those shops. The music was one of the two reasons why she bothered tagging along with her Mother.

(The other reason, as she discovered years later, was because a part of her really did want to bond with her Mother and grow closer to her. But she only discovered that years later during her first bout of real homesickness.)

One man’s trash was another man’s treasure. Echo heard that saying once, and never forgot it. It stuck to her, the words etched themselves into her heart, like a slogan she wanted to help shape her life. And it was that exact quote which came to her mind when she spotted that book.

When she found it, the book was in terrible condition. Its leather cover was peeling, and the spine was cracked. Pages were stuck on haphazardly with tape, but as far as she could tell no pages were missing. It was yellowed, smelled of dust and every time you touched it another piece would fall off. But the title caught her eye; from the minute she read it she knew she had to have it.

‘A Beginner’s Guide to Making Music (In a World Primed to Silence)’, read the title, in lettering which was supposed to be silver, but ended up fading into dull grey. When she saw it, tucked away in the corner behind two better-looking books, it instantly caught her eye.

In her tiny kingdom, an education in the arts was discouraged. As was an education in the sciences beyond the very basics. Her edgy little self theorised that it was to keep the dragons in the village from thinking for themselves. It was to keep them tied to the Pearl of Wisdom. If they stopped needing a rock to tell them how to solve their problems, it meant that there would be no need for that rock to stay around. As an adult, she looked back on her younger self and thought that she could have been a little more compassionate towards others who still believed in the Pearl’s powers. A little more charitable. But she also believed that though her thoughts were frank and unpolished - and quite frankly rather rude - they were ultimately true. Or at least her truth.

She knew Mother would probably disapprove of her getting such an ugly book. But she didn’t care. Surely the contents mattered more than the cover? And anyways, in its worn out glory it had its own form of beauty. One which - holding it in her claws, turning it around, taking in its musty smell and grainy texture - she could appreciate.

Fortunately, she was given some currency of her own. Once she became a teenager, her parents decided that she was old enough to make some of her own purchasing decisions. So for these holidays, they would give her a little currency to buy things for herself. She did not receive much, and she did not often spend it because she did not have much she wanted to buy. But luckily for her, the book was cheap, so she could get it without much issue.

When Mom and Dad discovered the book later, they gave her somewhat disapproving looks, but ultimately ended up letting her keep it without comment. She figured that it was because they were too tired to give her even a stern talking-to about spending her money wisely. They wanted to just enjoy the rest of their holiday, she figured. So for the rest of it, Echo tried to be as obedient as possible. Doing everything they wanted to do, going the extra mile and acting a little extra considerate. Being the best daughter she could be to her weary older parents.

Then in the evening, when they fell asleep, she would hide away under her covers and read her new book by the light of a torch.

She digested the whole book by the time their holiday was over. And when they returned home, she repaired it up so that the pages did not fall off. Then she read it all again. Echo fished out a notebook from the bottom of her junk drawer and took down important notes for her second read through. It was an ongoing project. She was, one way or another, going to learn how to properly make her own music. 

And so she studied and she practiced, until it was time for her to go back to school.

When school began again, she once again found herself sitting with Murmur during lunch. Mostly out of habit at that point. Over the years, Echo grew less faithful, while Murmur grew more. All the books Murmur read now talked about the Pearl of Wisdom. Echo was surprised that there were so many of such books out there in the world. Maybe that was the result of a society which restricted creative arts, yet still produced writers. 

But because those were the only sort of books she read anymore, all she talked about was the Pearl of Wisdom. Her trips there, the questions she asked it, and the solutions it offered. And Echo wanted to bring up her doubts, how she was skeptical of the whole business. But Murmur was so enthusiastic about it that she found it incredibly hard to talk to her. Half of it was because she talked about it so often and at such an alarmingly fast rate, that getting a word in was almost impossible. The other half of it was because she felt like bringing up her questions and doubts would only dampen her spirits. Enthusiasm of any sort was rare in a society which expected peace and quiet. So she liked to see at least someone do something with all the joy in their heart.

“Oh, by the way, Echo?” She asked one day. And immediately Echo’s attentiveness spiked up. From passively hearing to actively listening. 

“Yeah?”

“We need to talk to you about your… music.”

Murmur was more than her closest friend (which honestly was not saying much, considering how few friends Echo had). She was also her neighbour. Around that time, Echo had started trying to apply some of the lessons she learned from that book. One piece of advice out of the book was for musicians to practice their instrument every day. The book also considered vocal cords to be an instrument, even dedicating an entire section to singing. So of course, Echo simply had to practice her instrument as loud as she pleased.

“...What about it?” Echo asked, talking with her mouth full.

“Well, you see, we have a lot of people coming into the temple every day. You know, to ask the Pearl of Wisdom questions.” On top of reading a lot about the Pearl, and asking the Pearl questions, she had started to volunteer in the upkeep of the temple. “And well, it’s kind of rude for you to sing so loudly. Because they’re all trying really hard to be respectful, and it’s hard to do that when there’s always a ton of noise coming from the outside.”

Echo raised a brow. “So what you’re saying is…?”

“You really ought to keep quiet, please?” An awkward smile formed onto Murmur’s face. “You know, for the sake of everyone else.”

If Echo were a little older, she probably would have handled it better. If she were a little more mature, she would have discussed it with her. Shared her point of view, articulate her perspective and maybe they would have been able to reach a compromise together. But at that period of time, all she did to respond to her was go “...Oh.” 

She did not stop singing. She did, however, stop sitting with Murmur from that day on.

*****

Echo loved being a Skylander. She loved the freedom of being an adult, of being able to make all of her own choices regarding what to do with her life. She loved helping others, assisting all who could not protect themselves. She loved going to different places in Skylands, places which she could only dream of visiting as a child.

It was funny how her Father had hoped to take her out to see and experience as much of Skylands as possible, because she probably visited more varied locations after she left home. In the past, all the places they went to on their holidays were places like hotels, different shops, the odd tourist trap. After a while, they all begin to feel the same. As a Skylander, not only was she visiting more places on land, but she was visiting places previously forbidden for her to enter.

Places like bars and nightclubs mostly. As an adult, she discovered that she loved nightclubs. She loved the lights, the energy, the  _ music _ . The way the whole world just  _ fills  _ with sound, forcing all in the dark space to dance, it was a  _ spiritual experience _ . 

On her days off, Echo was known to make appearances in a lot of clubs. Sometimes she would stay the entire night in one, other times she would hop around and go to different ones. She returned to the ones she liked frequently, but always took time to go explore clubs she had never been in. 

There was always a drunk in the background, or someone crying in the corner somewhere. And that edge, the darkness mixed in with the dozens who were there to have a good time, always fascinated Echo. Back home, people were meant to either be happy or sad. It was black and white, and Echo always felt terribly out of place because of it. Here she felt more at home, and in the early days she used to leave such people alone. She minded her own business.

The funny thing about doing heroic deeds was that being a hero grew onto you, like a vine to a tree. And soon, she found herself intervening in the lives of those crying in the club. She would walk to them, introduce herself, buy them a drink of ice tea. And then she would help to provide whatever they needed. A ride home, a shoulder to cry on. Anything at all. Dancing and singing and music was good. But she grew into her role as a hero, a helper, to the point where she could no longer forget it on her days off.

She wondered sometimes, if her parents would be proud or disappointed at this new thing she did.

One of the most memorable club related incidents to her happened one rainy day. She was leaving the club, after calling in Flynn to help a drunk patron back home. They waited together in the sheltered pick-up point. Then Flynn showed up, they told him their address, and Flynn left. “You can get back by yourself later?” He asked.

“Yeah. For now, just get them home.” The two of them went through this every time she called him to pick up someone. But it was a neat little routine, and Echo had to admit, it was oddly comforting. 

And as usual, Flynn and his balloon left and Echo watched him leave. Once he was out of sight, she left to go back into the club. If she was lucky, she could go back to dancing. But usually it meant she needed to go back in and comfort someone who was crying alone in a corner.

That evening, she saw no one crying in the club, so she was going to return to enjoying herself. But right before she could enter the building, she heard someone call her name. “Echo?”

Echo turned around, and standing there under the put-out lanterns, in a waxy yellow raincoat, was a face she had not seen in a very long time.

“...Murmur?” She squinted her eyes. It was a little hard to see in the dark and the rain, but the silhouette, the voice… it seemed to be her. 

She stepped closer, and light from the club shone down on the figure. Her guess was proven to be true. “Hi… long time no see.”

Soon, they were both inside the club. Echo ordered an iced tea for the both of them, since Murmur did not drink for religious reasons and Echo did not like the taste of alcohol. “If we let ourselves drink, we might do actions contrary to what the Pearl of Wisdom instructs us to do, you see?” She explained. Murmur took a sip of the iced tea, and then grimaced.

“Yeah, this stuff’s not great. Too sweet,” said Echo, as she proceeded to gulp a mouthful of the drink down. “You grow used to it though.”

Murmur pressed her lips together. Behind them, loud electronic music blared loudly. The dance floor was crowded, and the only lights on in the place were neon. “So, you’re a Skylander now,” she said, “how do you like it?”

For a few seconds, Echo turned to look down at her drink while she thought about her answer. “It’s… well, it’s tiring. Lots of hard work. But it’s very satisfying, fulfilling work too. But what I want to know,” Echo turned to face Murmur again, “is what you’re doing here.”

Murmur took another sip of her drink, and winced again. “Well, the people in the kingdom have been hoping to… well, you know there was a coronation a couple years ago?” Echo did not. She honestly hadn’t been keeping up with hometown news. “Well, the new king wants us to spread the word about the Pearl of Wisdom. Tell others about it, how they could travel to find it, in hopes that more would come to seek its wisdom, you see?”

Echo made a low humming noise, showing that she did see. “And your plan is to come to these places huh? Nightclubs, bars, places prone to being full of people making bad life decisions.” She had read up about rulers who did these sorts of things. It was a good reason why she stopped going to the temple.

The way she said it made it sound like a bad thing, and Murmur felt that disapproving tone. “Oh, uh. Well, yes, that… that was the logic behind coming here.” A pause. “We’ve actually been on the road for months now. And we have a few new converts.”

Echo downed her drink, finishing it. “Right.”

More awkward silence. A part of Echo wished the conversation were not so awkward, another part knew that this conversation needed some awkwardness. Awkwardness meant that should the conversation continue, nothing they said could be devoid of some amount of meaning. She had little patience for shallow small talk.

“I… I always wondered though, Echo. If… I know you no longer practice this religion.” She said. Behind them the sound of loud music continued droning on. “And you haven’t been… actively practicing it for ages. Since we were teens.”

And that was followed by more silence, as if Murmur was reluctant to carry on talking. “Yeah?” Went Echo, in an attempt to prompt her to continue. 

“...So, I have to wonder. If you… don’t practice the religion. Then… why did you bother trying to save the Pearl of Wisdom all those years ago?”

Ah yes. The incident which made her a Skylander. She had spent years practicing her singing at that point, and she had discovered that she did indeed have a powerful voice. With a sonar blast, she was able to defeat the Aqua Jocks and prevent the Pearl from being stolen. For a week, she was her hometown’s hero, before word got out and she got recruited to the Skylanders.

And it was something she wondered for a while. It was not something she found personally important. She didn’t care much about the Pearl now, and she cared even less about it back then. “I guess… even though I didn’t care about it personally… I knew in my mind that others cared about it enough. Other people who I did care about.” Her parents, her few friends, the people who did like her. “So I couldn’t just stand by and let it get stolen, as long as people I love cared about it.”

Murmur traced a finger around the rim of her glass, then took a sip out of it. “Sometimes, I wish I had your mind, Echo.” 

Murmur didn’t bother to finish her drink. She placed the glass down, thanked Echo, and walked out. The music in the club continued playing, even once she walked out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Echo's bit about music being her real religion was based on Brendon Urie. He was raised mormon but left and he says that music is his religion, iirc.


End file.
